


The Crow

by Gamma1243



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Crow is doing his best, Feels, He deserves to be happy, Spoilers for Season of the Hunt, im still sad Cayde died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamma1243/pseuds/Gamma1243
Summary: “I’m going to tell him.”“Don’t you dare!” Ghost says, floating angrily in front of your face.“Why not?” You huff, shooing him away. “It’s not like I’m going to kill him again.”“Because,” he shoots back. “It doesn’t help anything, and it will just cause him more grief.”- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Basically I wrote my emotions about working with the Crow into a one-shot
Kudos: 26





	The Crow

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> I just finished playing the Forsaken campaign in Destiny 2 and BOY was I unprepared for the feels of losing Cayde. I was legitimately sad for several days. 
> 
> Of course, the season of the hunt also just started and Uldron is back which brought back a WHOLE slew of emotions. So I wrote this piece as a journal entry of sorts. It can be read from the perspective of any guardian, but it does feature how I specifically feel about the whole Uldron/Crow situation.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’m going to tell him.”

“Don’t you dare!” Ghost says, floating angrily in front of your face. 

“Why not?” You huff, shooing him away. “It’s not like I’m going to kill him again.”

“Because,” he shoots back. “It doesn’t help anything, and it will just cause  _ him _ more grief.”

You raise an eyebrow at Ghost.  _ Your  _ Ghost. Defending a man—no, murderer. 

“Well god forbid we cause him any discomfort.” You shake your head, walking away from the railing. 

Ghost follows, a constant shadow of light in the cheery sunlit tower courtyard. Other guardians bustle in the space. You spot Zavala chatting idly with several on the far balcony while Tess Eververse tries, in vain, to sell an exotic shell to a titan who is clearly only interested in new shaders.

How simple life in the tower is. How you long to go back to simpler times yourself. You glance up at the ruins of the old tower. Sparkling with wreckage and debris, it’s a shell of what it once was. The life of the place transported now to here.

You keep walking, feet taking you towards the hanger.

“What good comes from telling him that he murdered a guardian and—“

“Cayde.” You cut in. 

Ghost doesn’t have eyes to roll, but the way he waves himself in the air, dismissive of your comment, could have been the same. 

“What good comes from telling him he killed  _ Cayde _ and that you in turn murdered him right back? No one deserves to hear that!”

You aren’t sure how to answer.

Going around the galaxy meeting other guardians and destroying gods, well, it’s not as fulfilling as one might think. It’s lonely. Besides Ghost, there’s hardly anyone to even talk to.

At the thought of your clanmates a few decks below, your mind immediately floods with guilt. Of course you aren’t alone in the galaxy, one guardian against the worlds. Your clan means everything to you. 

It’s just that, well...they’re your family. You love them, and they always have your back. But sometimes they fail to understand you too. Sometimes you fight and disagree. 

You almost laugh at that thought. The whole reason you’re taking it easy, reflecting on your life on the upper deck is because you’re trying to keep away from your clan meeting currently underway. 

You shake your head imagining the warlocks of the group trying to maintain order among the group while trying to plan out a strategic approach to whatever mission they had just been assigned to by the Vanguard.

Yes, it was definitely the right choice to stay away today. 

Ghost lets out a mechanical sigh, bobbing along as you both turn out of the hallway and duck into the hanger. 

“I know that Cayde’s death was hard on everyone.” He turns one glowing eye towards you. “And I know you blame yourself for letting it happen.”

_ Ouch _ , you wince. Leave it to Ghost to hit your issues right on the nose.

“But bringing the issue up again reopens old wounds.” He continues. “Think how Ikora or Petra would feel. I know they blame themselves just as much. I don’t think there’s a day that goes by where Ikora doesn’t stop by that ramen shop.”

“I know Ghost.” You sigh.

“And I think this is a good turning point for the Crow. I’d much rather have him as an ally than someone who might turn on us if he knew the truth.”

“I know.” You repeat, tired of the conversation. 

Ghost glances at you again, narrowing his shell and eyeing you. You hate when he does this. It’s as if he can scan through you, see into your soul, your mind. For someone who can’t remember much about who they are, it’s incredibly frustrating to see him reading you so easily. 

“What?” You finally snap.

“You seem off.” He whirrs. “Did I say something.”

“No.” 

He looks at you a moment longer, and you almost snap at him again. Finally he perks up, disappearing and popping back up on the other side of your head.

“What are we in the hanger for today?”

You glance around the busy area. Your ship is nowhere in sight, able to be called at a moment’s notice, but plenty of other ships fill the space. One, a bright yellow, fresh off the line ship, getting a touched up by Amanda on the far right. A set of workers unload packages from another port. Bots scramble by in whirrs and clanks while the smell of oil permeates your nose.

The hanger isn’t your favorite place to be, but it’s a good place to go to get away from everything else in the tower.

“Just looking around today.” You say, distracted.

“Alright!” Ghost chirps back. “Well, if you need anything, I’m right near you, as always!”

And with that, he puffs away again. Leaving you to your thoughts.

You sigh again, turning left and walking towards the open hanger door.

You reach the edge, sucking in a deep breath as if this is the first time you’ve ever tasted pure air before. It’s clear, crisp and pristine, like the first snowflakes of winter gracing the earth.

On the opposite side of the wall the mountains sprawl out before you like a magnificent cape, circling the landscape crusted with dazzling green and crusted with powered white caps. Even in the brilliance of the sun, and despite the proximity to the city, no life flares among the desolate Earth. 

The mountains and horizons beyond offer mystery and danger, but up here in the Tower there is safety. Here there is light.

In the most ungraceful way possible, you drop to your butt and sling your legs over the side of the hanger ledge.

Why then, you wonder. Why does it all feel so empty? So shallow.

Leaning back, you kick your legs above the expanse. This is a ledge you’ve jumped off before. Hell, guardian dares are far too common these days, and it feels like just yesterday you and a clanmate dared each other to survive the hundred story drop. 

Your mind starts to wander, looking out to the cloudy sky. If you were a bird you could fly away from it all. Leave the ground behind, but not venture out into space. Just fly…

Like an eagle…

Like a sparrow...

Like a  _ crow _ .

And your mind has inevitably rounded back to  _ him. _

_ The Crow. _

God you hate it. You hate how he talks to you. Like you’re some kind of celebrity or a god. It rubs you the wrong way, like taking a bath in sewage.

_ “It’s...nice...working with another lightbearer.” _

You shake your head. 

_ “The others, they won’t talk to me…” _

Of course they bloody don’t.

_ “I’m sure if we had known each other before I wouldn’t have died.” _

Each word he’s spoken, every syllable, they drive right through your armor, piercing your heart like a knife. It leaks terrible sorrow through your body, but sends sparks of anger through your mind.

How  _ dare _ he say things like that. How could he when he murdered your friend in cold blood?

There’s a dark spot in the tower. In life. Everywhere. A dark spot where a friendly set of exo blue eyes used to twinkle.

And yeah, you are a bit of a loner. Don’t talk much to anyone besides Ghost, but to some level Cayde understood that.

He understood  _ you _ .

And he didn’t try and make you talk like everyone else does. He gave you space, but let you in on the fun. He knew what the life of a guardian was like probably better than anyone you’d met since waking up.

And he was dead.

Irrevocably dead.

Gone like the wisps of clouds in the wind. 

But the dark pit in your stomach remains to this day.

So why tell Uldron that he’s a filthy murderer? Maybe because in part, you want the hole to go away.

Even though you know it won’t. 

_ “Cayde is gone. We should accept that.” _

Ghost’s words echo in your mind. Harsh. Relentless. But true. 

Ghost always means well. It’s the best and simultaneously the worst aspect of him. It’s often wearying, like explaining to a child that life isn’t all black and white, good and evil. 

And sometimes he doesn’t fully understand grief. Not the human aspects of it at least.

Like how even though Cayde has been gone for a while now, you  _ still _ miss him. A lot. 

Working with the Crow feels like making a practical joke about Cayde’s death. Even thinking about sends a wave of guilt through you. Though, you admit, if Cayde were here he’d likely think the whole situation hilarious. You? Being stuck working with his killer-turned-good-guy? He’d bet thousands of glimmer just to see it!

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at the mental picture of it all.

But it fades fast.

No, Uldron or Crow or whatever he goes by is not your friend. Lightbearer or not. 

And Cayde isn’t coming back. 

And, like the snow capped mountains below you, cold fills your heart. An icy wall, not meant to break or shatter.

It feels as though there will never be light in the tower for you again. Not the same light at least. A cheap imitation, possibly, but the warmth and the welcoming spirit…? Gone.

You frown, gazing out into the unchanging world outside. 

Ghost is wrong.

The world is cruel and cold, so that is how you will be.

*************************************************************************************************

A lot has changed. 

Or maybe nothing has.

Maybe it’s you that’s changed, you think.

“I’m glad you’ve come around.” Ghost chirps as you travel through the enclosed hallways. “I had a feeling you would.”

You don’t give him the benefit of answering. 

“After all, he  _ is  _ a guardian. His old life is gone, and even then, it wasn’t him really. It was Riven.”

“I know Ghost.” You sigh. An all too often communication between you.

But he’s right.

Annoyingly right.

“I’m just saying, I think what you’re doing is very kind and what Cayde would have wanted.”

You adjust your hold on the small package in your hands, swallowing nervously.

Ghost disappears before you enter the Spider’s lair. The Fallen alien greets you with his usual dismissive attitude, barely looking up as you pass through his chamber into the side room.

Your stomach clenches as you round the corner. Why are you so nervous? Being nice isn’t anything special. If anything, you’re doing the bare minimum for Crow.

It wasn’t his fault, you tell yourself. It really wasn’t. The poor man could hardly walk outside without a thousand consequences raining down on him. If anyone had reason to be bitter, to hate, or take revenge, the Crow certainly did.

He hears you coming, his hood falling back as you round the corner. 

“Guardian.” He nods at you, turning from his work bench. “I recognized your foot tread. What brings you by today? Did you run out of supplies for your hunts already?”

At his words, your heart tugs at your chest. How cruel that the poor guardian before you only receives visits when  _ you _ need something from him. Your guilt nearly consumes you. 

Wordlessly, you extend your hand out to him. The package, wrapped in shiny blue paper from Eva, gleams in the dull lighting. 

Crow gapes at it, eyes widening. For a moment, you’re worried he won’t take it. A flash of uncertainty almost makes you retract the offering, but before you can do anything he snatches the gift and tucks it away out of sight. 

“Thank you.” He breathes. His eyes are moist. “Truly.”

You nod, grateful your helmet hides your emotions. You back away, awkwardly bumping into the wall before turning and rounding the corner back towards Spider. 

Maybe, you think, you really are the one who has changed.

  
  



End file.
